


Mistletoe in the Institute

by TeamHPForever



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, M/M, Mistletoe, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 04:58:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16716988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamHPForever/pseuds/TeamHPForever
Summary: When Martin steps out into the hallway and sees Tim on a ladder securing something green to the wall, the only surprise is that it hasn’t happened before.





	Mistletoe in the Institute

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea a few weeks ago. I didn't intend to write it all in one sitting while in bed on Thanksgiving morning, but these things happen. I have too many feelings and here they are in a Christmas-themed fic.

Christmas was only three days away but you wouldn’t know it inside the Institute. The outside world is dusted in a sugary snow, wreaths on doors, fairy lights on buildings, trees in windows, Christmas songs spilling from stores. Inside the Institute, everything looks the same as it does every day. The only signs the holidays are approaching at all is the tiny Christmas tree atop Martin’s desk and Tim’s propensity toward wearing a Santa hat.   
  
When Martin steps out into the hallway and sees Tim on a ladder securing something green to the wall, the only surprise is that it hasn’t happened before.   
  
“You couldn’t just hang up a string of lights?” Martin asks, watching as Tim climbs down the ladder. “Put up a tree?”   
  
“It’s Christmas, Martin!” Tim hefts the ladder under his arm and glances up with a crooked grin. “Hey, mistletoe.”   
  
Martin scowls and presses a kiss with more force than strictly necessary to Tim’s cheek. “If Jon kills you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”   
  
Tim laughs as he takes the ladder away. Martin looks up at the mistletoe with something like dread deep in his stomach.   
  
All in all, it could be worse. Tim only gets slapped once, as far as Martin is aware, and the mistletoe results in more than a few awkward kisses. Despite doing his best to avoid meeting anyone under the thing, Martin gets one from Rosie on the forehead when she comes to bring him a Christmas card and a brush on the lips from Sasha who is still laughing when it’s over. He tries not to read too much into that.   
  
It’s only on Christmas Eve that Martin starts to relax. The Institute will be closed on the Day and then the mistletoe will have to disappear from the wall, at least until next year. All he has to do is make it a few more hours without running into anyone.   
  
It shouldn’t be too difficult. Jon’s recording statements in his office, as usual. Tim’s gone out with friends. Sasha went home to see extended family. Elias, well, Elias rarely seems to come out of his office, no matter what time of year it is. Most of the researchers have gone off to their own Christmas plans, leaving the Institute dark and much quieter than normal. Instead of leaving Martin with the unsettled feeling of being alone, though, he feels like the hallways themselves are watching him.   
  
Martin has just about decided to go home himself, maybe try to call his mother if it’s not too late, but as he steps into the hall, Jon is there.   
  
The mistletoe taunts him from its place on the wall and Martin could just about kill Tim himself right then.   
  
“Martin.” Jon’s voice is surprised as his office door clicks shut behind him. “I thought you went home. No Christmas Eve plans?”   
  
Martin shakes his head, willing himself not to look up at the mistletoe. Maybe he can just ignore it. It’s a stupid tradition anyway. Nothing says that just because he and Jon are standing beneath it, they _have_ to kiss.   
  
“My family…they don’t live nearby.” It’s true, kind of, but he doesn’t want to get into it right now. It’s Christmas. “I thought I might finish up some filing while the researchers are gone.”   
  
“Right.” Jon looks down at the tape recorder in his hand and frowns when he finds it running. He clicks the stop button. “I was just recording a few statements, trying to get caught up.”   
  
“No Christmas plans for you, either?” Martin asks, even though he’s sure he already knows the answer. He’s never heard Jon mention having family, or friends, or a partner. He’s hung out with Martin and Tim and Sasha on more than a few after-work outings but he never really seems to enjoy them.   
  
“I thought I might come into the Institute,” Jon says. “This place is a disaster, you know.”   
  
Martin nods and tries not to think about Jon wandering the Institute, alone, on Christmas Day. “You could come over to mine for Christmas tomorrow, if you like.”   
  
“Thank you, Martin,” Jon says, brusque. “I really don’t mind working. Christmas…I’ve never put much stock in the holidays.”   
  
“All right.” Martin makes the mistake of looking up, his eyes fixating on the mistletoe. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear it’s grown larger in the last few days.   
  
Jon follows his eyes up and lets out a snort. “Who was it then?”   
  
“Tim, of course.” Martin drags his eyes away. “Who else would it be?”   
  
“I hadn’t even noticed.” Jon laughs, short and unamused. “I guess that explains the kiss I got from Sasha yesterday.”   
  
“You too?” Martin takes a step forward, toward the door, and only realizes after it’s done how much closer to Jon it brings him. “Why did you think she kissed you?”   
  
“I thought maybe she was just excited about Christmas.” Jon shrugs, giving the mistletoe a dark look. “I’d just told her she could go hoe, after all. This holiday brings out all sorts of strange behavior.”   
  
“Like Halloween?”   
  
Jon shudders. “Not _quite_ like Halloween.”   
  
Martin stretches his arm up but the mistletoe is about a foot too high above his fingers. Where was that damn ladder? “You know, we could take this down now. I don’t think Tim will know the difference.”   
  
“It’s—” Jon stutters to a stop as Martin turns back to him. “It’s fine. You can leave it. It’s not like there’s anyone here for it to bother.”   
  
Martin’s heart thunders in his ears. “We’re standing under it now.”   
  
“Yes. We are.”   
  
“It’s tradition for us to kiss.” Martin takes a step forward and feels like he might fall to his knees. In all his terror of this moment, he’d never imagined that Jon might actually be okay with the idea of kissing him, for the sake of the mistletoe.   
  
It is just for the mistletoe, right? That might be even worse, kissing Jon once and then never again. Kissing Jon because it was a thing to do, not because they both _wanted_ it.   
  
“I know what mistletoe is, Martin,” Jon says, impatiently. “If you don’t want to kiss me, you don’t have to. It’s an absurd tradition, for pranksters and lovestru—”   
  
Martin doesn’t get to hear the rest because he closes the distance between them in a single step and rushes into a kiss before he can think better of it. Jon’s lips are soft and warm, and he tastes like the bitter aftertaste of black coffee. Their noses bump together and Martin’s glasses threaten to slide down his face.   
  
Martin pulls away, waiting for Jon to punch him in the face. He doesn’t. “I’ll help you if you want to work all day tomorrow,” Martin murmurs, brushing a gray strand of hair out of Jon’s eyes, “if you promise to come have Christmas dinner with me. It’ll just be me, and probably a ham, maybe a nice pecan pie.”   
  
“Okay.” Somewhere, leaking through the walls of the Institute, a bell chimes the midnight hour. “Merry Christmas, Martin.”   
  
“Merry Christmas, Jon.”


End file.
